


Make me skin and bones

by WordsOfHeart



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anorexia, Bipolar Disorder, Body Image, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Self-Destruction, Worried Mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 17:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11925462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsOfHeart/pseuds/WordsOfHeart
Summary: Ian swallowed nervously as he locked himself in the only changing room of the club, not wanting to be naked and exposed in front of every stereotype of perfection standing in front of him. He slowly stripped down to nothing, letting his emerald eyes meet the glass that was hanging on the door in front of him. He took a moment to look at himself, from head to toe, noticing every single thing that seemed wrong with him._____Story is inspired of 6x09 when Ian tells Mandy that he quit his job at the Fairy Tail, because he was fed up of starving himself to fit in his golden thong. In this story, we understand the backround story and how it all started.





	Make me skin and bones

**Author's Note:**

> Hi lovelies!  
> This story mainly revolves around body image, so if you are easily triggered by that subject, read at your own risks. I've had this story in the back of my mind for a while and it turned out to be the longest and most complete one shot I've ever wrote. I hope you enjoy xx

''Leaving me already?'' Mickey shrugged and frowned as he felt Ian slowly shift towards the other side of the bed. He pushed his face further into the pillow, not finding enough devotion to wiggle out of his half slumber.

''Got an early meeting at work. New uniforms or some bullshit.'' Ian patted Mickey's back right before pushing himself on his feet. He grabbed the same pair of jeans that he had been wearing the day before, pulling them up his legs. Struggling to find a top, he settled for one of Mickey's tees, tucking it over his head without second thought. It was rather tight around his chest, but it would do. ''Should be back in an hour or two.'' He admitted, shoving his backpack over his shoulder and leaning over the bed to press a small kiss against the back of Mickey's head. ''Right in time for dinner.''

The grumpy older boy responded by shoving the heavy blankets over his head, groaning as Ian opened the blinds, lights exploding all around the room.

''Get up. It's noon.'' The redhead insisted, giving the wall a small tap. He left the bedroom, without taking the care to close the door behind him. He exchanged a quick awkward gaze with Svetlana who was sitting on the couch, zapping through boring television channels. Without insisting on speaking to her, he slipped into his wreaked shoes, exiting the Milkovich house without shame.

He took a glance at his phone when he reached the outside world, noticing quickly that he was only minutes away from being late. At his realisation, he doubled his pace and started jogging down the streets of South Chicago, knowing he had no more than fifteen minutes to reach _Boystown_ on time. Luckily for him, he had been working out since the age of fourteen, which meant he could easily run twenty five blocks without being exhausted. Even though his dreams of enlisting had vanished in front of his eyes, he had stuck to training, always enjoying the idea of being strong.

Benjamin was standing in front of the club when the redhead arrived, arms crossed and expression rough. Ian's boss was nothing but a nice man, treating every single one of his employee's like worthless whores. Ian had been working there for a few months now and had got used to the feeling, usually ignoring every pitiful comment that the older prick made.

''Curtis. Everyone's already inside.'' He rolled his eyes, completely annoyed by Ian's lack of interest. ''I was seconds away from firing your sorry ass.''

''Sorry. I had a thing.'' Ian lied in attempt to smoothen Benjamin's expression. He didn't like him, that was a fact everyone probably knew, but he really didn't want to lose his job. The cash he was making was good and even gave him the opportunity to spoil Mickey once in a while.

He couldn't spit on that.

''Go backstage. The boys are trying on the new shorts we've received yesterday.'' He pointed the entrance, not a single hint of a smile showing. ''Hurry the fuck up before I change my mind.''

Ian gave him a nod and rushed inside the club. He walked throughout the dance floor, automatically noticing how different this place looked in the daylight. It almost seemed like a decent bar for a drink. With his thoughts rushing through his brain, he reached the wanted emplacement, quickly greeting the other boys who were already holding their new costumes between their fingers. He internally laughed at how his boss had called them shorts, they looked more like very revealing thongs.

''Here kid.'' Benjamin threw a pair right into Ian's hands when he walked inside the crowded room. ''Now I want everyone to change to see how you look. I want to take a picture to install a poster of all you fags at the entrance.''

Ian sighed, so far he had been really good at hiding his job from almost everyone. A giant poster of his face didn't seem like something very subtle. He unfolded the small piece of material, starring at it with his eyebrows furrowed. He watched all the other dancers as they rushed to the changing rooms, realising that he would definitely have a problem. He nervously approached Benjamin, handing him the holographic thong that he had offered him only seconds before.

''I...I think there's been a mistake.'' Ian cleared his throat before continuing. ''I'm a size large in underwear. This is like...an extra small or some shit.''

''Well, it's one size fits all. Going to have to squeeze in it Curtis. Now hurry the fuck up and change, you're wasting my precious time again.'' He insisted, having no intentions of negotiation.

''Well I'm sorry if my big ass cock doesn't fit in your dumb tiny piece of clothing.'' He said more firmly this time, knowing his body well enough to realise there was no way he could ever fit in that thong.

''Or maybe your just plain fucking fat.'' Benjamin laughed at his affirmation, rolling his eyes and pushing the shorts right back into Ian's chest. ''Squeeze in them or get the fuck out of my club.''

Ian's head dropped to the ground, words echoing through his mind and hitting him right into his heart. He had no idea why the word _fat_ sounded so hurtful, but it was the only thing that kept ringing in his ears. He took the stupid costume between his now shaking fingers, storming out of the room in a split second. When Benjamin was out of his sight, he took a moment to breathe and reset his brain, hand on his chest as he tried desperately to regulate his breathing. He wanted to disappear and run back home, but he knew his future was depending on it, unable to imagine himself going to Mickey and announcing that he had officially lost his job, perhaps their only revenue to keep on living normal lives.

He took his courage, placing one trembling foot in front of the other as he headed towards the changing zone, knowing things would get ugly. He starred at every single dancer, mesmerized by the fact that they all looked perfect in that stupid holographic piece of shit. Their abs were fully showing, their bums were round and firm and they didn't have one single hair showing on their bodies.

Ian swallowed nervously as he locked himself in the only changing room of the club, not wanting to be naked and exposed in front of every stereotype of perfection standing in front of him. He slowly stripped down to nothing, letting his emerald eyes meet the glass that was hanging on the door in front of him. He took a moment to look at himself, from head to toe, noticing every single thing that seemed wrong with him. His jaw line wasn't defined enough and his freckles were too obvious. His collarbones weren't showing through his skin and he had a few little ginger hairs growing along his chest and right down to his belly button. His stomach was too puffy, which made his abs undefined and his thighs...His fucking thighs were huge.

He had never noticed before how many things unpleased him about his body. For some reason though, all his imperfections were suddenly all begging him to be fixed.

He slipped his left leg in the hole of the thong, then the right, pulling it onto his body as it got stuck midway above his knees. He tried jumping to wiggle into them properly, he tried sitting down on the little bench to make them go to his waist, but nothing seemed to be working. He felt tears slowly tickle his eyes, biting his lip as he struggled to hold them back. He had never realised how fucking imperfect he was.

''Curtis, everyone's going outside for the picture. Do you want me to wait for you?'' Asked another dancer as he knocked on the door of Ian's cabin, starting to wonder why he was taking so much time to get ready. He watched as everyone slowly walked out of the club, knowing Benjamin would explode if Curtis made him wait again. ''I...I think you should hurry up.''

Ian jumped a little when he heard the voice on the other side of the door, having no idea someone was that close. He sniffled as rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, no longer knowing what to do. He felt absolutely horrible.

_How the fuck was everyone fitting in this shit._

''Curtis?'' The young boy asked again, starting to get slightly concerned. ''I'm not trying to be an ass...I just don't want you to be in trouble man.''

''I...I don't think I can come out just yet.'' Ian almost whispered as he starred at the shorts that wouldn't fit his body. There was no way these were going up to his hips, he knew it, but had no idea how to say it without being judged and shamed by everyone else.

''Why not?'' The dancer asked confused, now getting his ear closer to the door, having trouble to hear Ian's low voice.

''I just...'' He sighed as he threw the underwear to the ground in frustration, putting his own clothes back on. He felt like punching the mirror in front of him, but realised quickly enough that it wasn't the object's fault if he was fat, _it was his fucking fault._ He unlocked the door and slowly pushed it open, starring back at Kyle who was standing right by his side. ''I feel fucking nauseas. I think I'm going to throw up.'' He faked a quite convincing gag as he folded himself in two and wrapped a hand around his stomach.

''Shit mate.'' Kyle frowned as he looked at him carefully, believing everything that he was seeing. ''Just...Go home. I'll talk to fucking Benjamin.''

''You sure?'' He asked in relief, gagging again only to make his acting truly believable.

''Go.''

Ian nodded in thankfulness, throwing his backpack on his left shoulder and quickly leaving the club. He passed everyone other dancer as his boss was screaming questions at him. Not once did he turn around, only jogging quicker. He owned a lot to Kyle, he'd have to thank him later. He left without once turning back, going down the road fast. He stopped himself only when he was out of everyone's sight, pressing a hand against a red bricked wall as he desperately tried to catch his uneven breath.

_What the fuck was wrong with him?_

He pulled the cellphone out of his pocket, dialling the one number he knew best. After one single ring, the comforting voice answered, automatically regulating Ian's heart rate.

''Missing me already Gallagher?'' Mickey questioned oblivious as he stood by the stove, whisking the spaghetti sauce he had prepared for dinner. It was the only recipe his mother had ever taught him, but he knew just how much his boyfriend liked it.

''Come get me.'' The tremors could be heard through his voice. ''Plea...se.'' His voice broke slightly at his last word, coming out less convincing that he would of have hoped for.

Mickey could sense through the phone that something was definitely wrong. He knew Ian better than he knew himself, there was no hiding when it came to his redhead.

''Tell me where you are.'' He spoke quickly, not losing any time by asking him if he was alright, since it was quite obvious that he wasn't.

''Three blocks away from the club. On 47th.'' Ian kept a hand locked on his chest as he spoke, trying his best to keep himself together as he waited.

''Don't fucking move.'' Mickey threw his whisk in the air and turned the stove off. He grabbed Iggy's car keys and almost ran towards the door.

''Yev's taking a nap in my room. Make sure he's alright?''

''Why? Boyfriend losing his shit again?'' Svetlana asked with a sarcastic smirk, not haven moved from the couch where she had been sitting since the sun had raised.

''Shut the fuck up.''

And with that, he was flying out the door.

* * *

 

''Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on or am I going to have to guess?'' Mickey asked as he stared at the road, frustrated by the lack of conversation Ian was offering him.

The rest of the car ride was completely silent. Mickey gave a few glance in Ian's direction as he drove to his house, but Ian was completely turned to the passenger's side window, lost in his thoughts. He could feel Mickey's eyes on his from time to time, but didn't find enough bravery to stare back. He really didn't want to talk about the intense and confusing emotions that were filling his mind. All he wanted to do was get in bed and sleep until his curves disappeared.

As soon as Mickey parked the car, Ian opened his door and stormed into the house, leaving the older boy horribly confused. Ian had sounded pretty happy this morning, but with the redhead, moods could change in seconds, which scared Mickey even more. He locked his doors before walking into his home, taking the care to close the front door that his boyfriend had left wide open.

Svetlana was unsurprisingly still on the couch, holding onto Yevgeny as she breastfeed him. She turned around slightly to look at a very concerned Milkovich.

''Went to bedroom. Shut the door. Bang! Make me and baby jump.'' She sighed as she rolled her eyes, getting used to this type of behaviour from Mickey's boyfriend now. Most times, she didn't even consider him as a human anymore, he was just insane to her, nothing more, nothing less.

''I'm going to talk to him.'' He released a loud sight, knowing nothing good would come out of their conversation, but deciding it was worth the try anyway. He walked to their bedroom door, shook his head at his _stay the fuck_ _out_ cardboard warning and knocking on the door twice with his firm fist. ''Ian? Open up, I want to talk to you.'' He asked firmly, not feeling like waiting today. He and Ian had been doing amazing in the past few months, he really wasn't ready for another low... _Not now_.

''Come in.''

Mickey breathed out in relief, happy to hear words come out of his boyfriends mouth. If he was speaking, it meant that he wasn't spiralling out of control just yet. He turned the knob and welcomed himself inside the dark bedroom. He walked towards the bed where Ian was sitting, falling right by his side as he dropped a palm against his knee in comfort.

''I'm still waiting to understand you know?'' He looked directly in the redhead's eyes, hoping to get the answers he was impatiently wanting to hear.

''I ran to the club cause I was kind of late. Once I got there, I felt really nauseous but I tried ignoring it. We were all trying our new costumes on and I almost barfed all over the floor in front of everyone. It was fucking humiliating...Benjamin sent me home.'' Ian spoke slowly as his lie rolled around his tongue, knowing he couldn't tell the truth to Mickey. He didn't even understand what had happened himself. 

''So you aren't working tonight then?'' The older boy now asked with a tint of sympathy, rubbing Ian's leg up and down soothingly. ''Are you still feeling sick?''

''Got the day off.'' He affirmed, knowing his boss had never actually told anything about him not having to dance for the night, but simply assuming since there was no way he was setting foot in the club a second time in the same day. ''I'm alright I think. Maybe I just need some rest.''

''Well you've been working crazy hours.'' Mickey's frown was obvious now, wishing he could do something to reduce the amounts of shifts Ian had to do to put food on their table. ''You deserve a break.'' He lifted his arm gently, wrapping it around his boyfriend's shoulders. He slowly pulled him towards his body, tucking him into his chest like he always did when Ian felt lost or depressed. ''Sleep. You fucking need it.''

Ian simply nodded, loving how Mickey always found a way to make him feel better, without even knowing what was happening to him. He lightly squeezed his hand with his thin fingers, closing his eyes firmly as he listened to the soothing beating of Mickey's heart.

''Did you want to eat first?'' Mickey asked as he wrapped his second arm around Ian's body, slowly making them both fall into the bed completely. He pulled the duvet over their tangled bodies, keeping Ian locked against his torso. He breathed out in relief as he felt the redheads tensed muscles slowly relax, having hope that he would turn out to be just fine.

''I'm not hungry.'' Ian whispered as he pushed the cold tip of his nose into the crook of Mickey's neck. The ironic part was that his stomach slowly growled in hunger as he mentioned those words, knowing that Mickey could hear the rumbles very clearly.

''Are you sure?'' He asked again with his eyebrows raised, obviously confused by the noises he had just acknowledged. His hand slightly trailed along Ian's chest, stopping at the entrance of his shirt and tucking it under the material gently as he pushed his warm palm against the cold skin of his boyfriends tummy.

''Yeah. Stomach kind of hurts.'' Ian lied again, thankful he wasn't Pinocchio and that his nose was still remaining it's average size. He winced uncomfortably, secretly thanking Fiona for registering him in theatre lessons when he was in elementary school. Surprisingly, being a good actor turned out to be quite an advantage.

''You do feel kind of bloated.'' Mickey frowned as he curled his fingers around Ian's belly button, hoping to make him feel better with his magical touch. What he didn't know though, was that his words were only going to make it worst.

Since Ian's stomach was not actually hurting for real, there were no reasons for it to be bloated. It only confirmed his horrific assumptions, he had truly put on some weight. He tried to keep his tears from falling, but couldn't hide the fact that his emeralds were starting to fill with water. Mickey simply assumed that the pain was getting worst, pulling his boyfriend a little closer to him in attempt to reassure his favourite redhead.

''Shh...It's alright. M'sure you'll feel better in a few hours.'' Mickey tried comforting him as he ran his fingers through Ian's fluffy ginger hair. He pressed a light kiss to his temple, only wanting his boyfriend to feel better.

What Mickey ignored though, was that it was simply the beginning of a new strike of lows.

* * *

 

 

 

Ian had fallen asleep quite quickly and Mickey had decided to wiggle out of his arms to get some cleaning done around the house. He had spent every single minute of his free time, scrubbing multiple corners until they shined. Since Mandy had moved out, he had taken control of everything domestic. When Ian had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, his efforts around the house tripled, having no other choice if he wanted to keep things as normal as possible. It had become quite common for him, never complaining about anything, from meal cooking to baby night time routines with Yevgeny. He was simply trying to be the best boyfriend, house keeper and dad all at once.

Around midnight, exhaustion took control of his body, thinking of heading to bed with Ian. He had let him sleep the biggest part of the afternoon, hoping he would feel better afterwards, which is why he was so surprised when he saw Ian awake, standing in the doorway of the bathroom he had been scrubbing for the past hour.

''Hi sleepy face.'' Mickey greeted him with a wide smile, throwing his dirty towel in his direction. He watched Ian closely, trying to analyse his behaviour.

''Hey. Been working hard I see?'' He forced a smile, catching the towel and throwing it right back at his chuckling boyfriend.

''Had to get a few things done. I know I live in a shithole, but doesn't mean it needs to be fucking disgusting everywhere I step.'' He affirmed, tiredness obvious on his face. The dark circles were starting to show underneath his blue spheres. ''Feeling better?''

''Yeah. Was about to go for a run.'' Ian pointed at his sneakers and at the gym shorts he was wearing. He used to make  daily jogs all the time before his disorder got the best of him, which made him hope Mickey wouldn't ask too many questions about his sudden envy for working out in the middle of the night.

''A run?'' Mickey raised an eyebrow, now turning around to have full focus of what Ian was telling him. ''A fucking run at this time? Don't you think you should take it slow? You were about to barf and now suddenly you feel like wiggling your stomach in every fucking direction? Give yourself a break Gallagher.'' His tone was rougher, confused by Ian's sudden and very random desire for running. ''Go tomorrow when the suns out at least.''

''What, you going to fucking baby sit me now Mickey? Tell me that it's dangerous?'' Ian was now getting mad as well. Deep down, he understood the older boys point completely, but he didn't want to admit it to himself. If he wanted to start losing weight, he needed to do something about it. _Now_.

''Well actually yeah. Don't be dumb and go in the morning.'' Mickey's arms were crossed against his chest, hoping that his boyfriend would realise just how ridiculous he was being. He was silently praying that this wasn't the signs of a bipolar bomb falling on their heads.

''Fuck you. I'll be back in an hour.'' Ian turned his heals, back now facing Mickey. He started walking down the hall with a determined pace, knowing there was nothing his dark haired badass could say to make him change his mind.

_He was going for a stupid jog. That decision was final._

''The hell is wrong with you Ian?!'' Mickey reached the hallway quickly, having a spark of hope that Ian would come back to his senses and take the reasonable decision. His voice was tinted with emotion, feeling worthless, unable to convince his own boyfriend to stay safe at home. ''Please come back to bed. With me?'' The fact that Mickey wasn't swearing anymore was proving just how much he was sincere about his every word. It almost came out as a beg. 

With his last question, Ian left the house, banging the door loudly behind him. Mickey stayed still in the hallway, not believing what had just happened.

''Fuck you too.'' He whispered to himself, slowly walking to the couch where he dropped his weightless body. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and shoved it on the coffee table in front of him. If he was to receive a call from Ian, he didn't want to miss it. He starred at the clock that showed _12:07_ , acknowledging that it would be a long night.

* * *

 

Days went by, but Ian's behaviour stayed the same. The conversations between Mickey and Ian were getting more and more rare, which was extremely stressful for the older boy. He knew in his gut that something was wrong, but couldn't quite put his finger on what it was and why it had been triggered. Every time he would ask Ian if he was alright, the redhead would simply say that he was feeling a little sick. He spent most of his time in bed and most of his nights running for countless hours. Or at least, that's what he told his boyfriend. Mickey had analysed every single possibility, even thinking that he was maybe cheating on him. The previous night, Ian had even turned down sex, which only made Mickey more doubtful. Ian Gallagher refusing a good fuck was like Mickey wearing a dress - _fucking impossible_.

Ian had called in sick for the past 3 nights, promising that he would come in the next day, but never fulfilling his sayings. The frustration flowing in Mickey's veins was getting unbearable, hating that he couldn't understand.

Ian on the other hand, was slowly driving himself insane. He knew that he wasn't doing good, he knew that his body was getting weak and begging him for food, but the inner voice in the back of his mind was keeping him from swallowing. Mickey had tried to feed him many times, even bringing small bowls of soup right into the bed where he was laying, but he couldn't do it. _He couldn't fucking eat._ The famine screaming in his stomach was painful, but the pain reminded him just how much the hunger was worth it. Whenever Mickey wasn't with him, he would rush to the mirror, trying his holographic thong on and praying for it to climb all the way to his waist. Every failure made his body ache and his soul break. Ian had promised himself that he wouldn't go to work until he would fit perfectly in his tiny shorts. He wanted to be beautiful too and couldn't bear the thought of being fat.

With his usual hopefulness, Mickey was in the kitchen, pouring a black coffee and throwing a plain donut on a plate. For the fourth day in a row, he was going to try to get Ian to swallow his breakfast. He slowly dragged himself along the hall that leaded to his bedroom, praying that he would succeed.

Mickey pushed himself inside without giving any hint of his presence to his boyfriend. His eyes shifted from right to left, stopping on the frail figure that was standing in the corner in only royal blue boxers. That was the problem with a door knob that didn't lock. Ian was there, looking at himself in the full length mirror while pinching his stomach between his fingers. By the ground, right by his side, there was a small piece of clothing that Mickey had never seen before.

The older boy stayed in the doorway for a moment, watching his boyfriend as he seemed to analyse every single part of his body. He couldn't keep the frown from showing on his red lips, slowly catching on. He hadn't noticed his hands were shaking, right until he dropped the cup of coffee to the floor, watching it as it shattered all around him. The warm liquid splashed all over, burning the inside of his hand. He winced and cursed in pain, automatically making Ian turn around in shock. He hadn't even realised Mickey had been in the room.

''A...Are you alright Mick?'' Ian blurted out, rushing to Mickey's side without taking the care to hide his body. The lack of food he had been consuming, even if it had only been a few days, was already physically showing. Hi ribs were more defined and his collarbones were more noticeable than they had ever been before.

_It was scaring the fuck out of Mickey._

Even though the burning on his legs felt like flames eating out his skin, the only thing Mickey could concentrate on was the unhealthy looking Ian that was standing in front of him. He knew something had been wrong, put had never expected it to be _that_ bad. His first reflex was to point his fingers against his boyfriends chest, feeling anger and worry fill his mind all at once.

''Are you fucking alright is what I should be asking you!'' Mickey almost shouted, nerves painting his tone. His hands were shaking, half from the pain he was feeling, half from the vision he was seeing. ''The fuck is happening to you?!'' He continued to question the redhead, not realising how aggressing and rough his voice was until Ian's eyes started to water.

''I'm...I'm fine.'' Ian paced, trying to convince Mickey, and himself, that everything was normal. He swallowed back his tears and the hatred he had towards himself, simply working on making his boyfriend believe what he was saying.

''Ian you're not fucking fine, which also means I'm not fine. And if we both aren't alright that means it can't just be fucking fine okay?!'' Mickey was full on screaming now, rage and confusion keeping him from realising that he was now full on bawling. His tears were freely falling along his cheeks and Ian felt horrible because this was the first time his little thug had ever cried in front of him. ''Fucking talk to me!'' He begged, grabbing Ian by the shoulder blades and shaking him back and forth in attempt to help him snap back into reality.

''Mickey...I...I've got this under control. I...I promise.'' Ian slowly brought a hand to Mickey's cheek, caressing it soothingly with his thumb. The tears that were slipping along his face were breaking his already hurting heart.

''Why haven't you fucking been eating since four days then?''

''I'm not hungry Mick. But I'm alright. I...I swear.'' Ian tried his best to reassure him, only reinforcing the denial in which he was caught up.

''Please...Please just...'' He handed him the donut with a shaking hand, simply wanting his baby to snap out of whatever fucked up phase he was in.

''I'll eat it. I'll eat it ok?'' He promised in attempt to calm Mickey down. Deep down, he knew he wasn't going to swallow the calorie filled poison, but lying to reassure his boyfriend, sounded like the right thing to do. ''But..Before we need to take care of that leg of yours alright?''

Mickey nodded, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He hated showing weakness, but when it came to Ian being in pain, he just couldn't cope. Ian forced a light smile, wrapping an arm around Mickey's neck and pressing a light kiss against the top of his head.

''Shh...You're going to be alright. Just breathe.''

The redhead patted the older boy's back, still somehow thinking that Mickey was the one who needed help.

* * *

 

 _''If you don't come in tonight, your fucking fired kid. It's been a God damn week and I've reached my limits.''_ Benjamin spoke through the phone, starting to get pretty annoyed with Ian's bullshit.

''I will. I feel better.'' Ian smiled at his reflexion in the mirror as he spoke, looking at how his thong caressed his hips perfectly, sculpting his body like he had always dreamed of.

_''Good. Don't be late, you start at eight.''_

And with that, he had already hung up.

Ian hadn't felt that good in a while. Feelings of starvation had actually made him reach his goal and finally, his uniform was fitting him like a glove. Sadly, he didn't quite understand why his thighs still seemed too wide and why his stomach still looked too floppy.

Just a few more pounds and he'd be perfect.

_Right?_

* * *

 

The night had been off to a great start. Ian had arrived fifteen minutes before the beginning of his shift with a smile printed on his lips. He had been greeted by a usually unpleasant Benjamin, but also by sweet co-workers who had been concerned about his multiple sick days. He had reassured them quickly before rushing out to the backstage. He had changed in his thong in seconds, already being back to analysing his body in the mirror. He was proud of how it now fitted his body, but was still unpleased about how he looked. He knew that his battle with his insecurities was very far from over.

When he reached the dance floor, the club was already pretty busy. A numerous amount of old men with grey hair and Rolex's around their writs were undressing the dancers with their eyes, talking about which one they would bring home tonight to suck them off. It made Ian remember the days where he would suck off dudes for 50 bucks. He had gone a long way since then, promising Mickey that he would keep his job at the Fairy Tale, but would never go past grinding his body on stage. His sex working days were over and he was glad.

The redhead climbed on his little platform, smiling as a few males approached him to stare at the performance he was about to give. One second, Ian was dancing frantically on his little stage, lights flashing in his eyes, music ringing in his ears and money being shoved in his face. The second later, his legs felt numb, his vision got blurry and he felt like he was about to fall. He tried grabbing the pole that hanging on his left side, but the heavy feeling pressing against his scalp didn't give him enough time. Before he could even acknowledge what was happening, his world started spinning around and his body hit the ground. The clients standing by his side circled him, understanding that the performer fainting was not at all part of the show.

''You alright kiddo?'' One of the men shouted through the music as he kneeled down by Ian's side. He could see his eyes rolling all around, which meant that he was still half conscious.

''He's so fucking thin, no shit he's fainted. Someone get him a fucking greasy hamburger or something. Kids gotta eat.'' Another client spoke up, haven rarely seen a dancer so skinny before. ''Going to get someone to help him out.''

It's not long afterwards, that Ian was lifted from the ground in Kyle and Glitter's arms. Both mid twenty boys starred at each other in concern as they carried the boy, not believing how light Curtis was. They laid him on one of the saggy old couches in the employee's room, waiting for Benjamin to find Ian's emergency list. Kyle had rinsed out a cold cloth from the bathroom, pressing it on the ginger's warm forehead.

By the time Benjamin had called a Mickey in hyperventilation, Ian was already slowly drifting out of unconsciousness, taking little glances around the room he was laying in, in attempt to understand where he was. He tried lifting his body up with his elbows, but his shaky spaghetti arms were keeping him from doing so.

''Hey mate, calm down. We called your boyfriend in...Mickey? He's on his way.'' Glitter spoke softly, exchanging nervous glances with his friend.

Kyle nodded, rubbing Ian's arm up and down gently. ''Are you alright Curt? Everyone's really worried about you.''

He wanted to say he was fine. He wanted to promise he would be alright. But this time, he knew it wasn't true, so he decided to stay silent instead.

''Yeah man. You're like...Fucking tiny. Those shorts are so fucking small, I don't even know how you fitted in them.''  Glitter added as he kept his eyes locked on Ian's holo thong.

''Aren't they one size fits all?'' Ian whispered through his dry mouth, not understanding why his saliva was no longer reaching his mouth.

''Mine's a large.''

''Mine too.'' Kyle frowned as he pressed his hand on Ian's shoulder in sympathy. ''Maybe you need to get some help bro.'' He suggested, completely oblivious of Ian's bipolar disorder.

 _Fuck. Benjamin was really an arse_ , he thought to himself.

All he truly needed right now were Mickey's strong arms around his weakened frame.

* * *

 

''Where the fuck is he?!'' Mickey grabbed at the collar or the confused barman, haven been going all around the club in vain for the past five minutes. He was starting to lose his shit. ''You better find him or I swear I'm going to stab you in the fucking eye.'' His teeth were squeezing against each other, ready to explode if he didn't get answers.

''Chill bro.'' Millow tried  to wiggle out of Mickey's tight grip, not really into the idea of getting chocked by a stranger at work. ''I'm guessing you're looking for Curtis?''

Mickey laughed sarcastically, rolling his eyes at how idiotic that stupid stage name sounded.

''Fuck yeah I am.''

''Follow me.''

It wasn't long for the older boy to reach the employee's room, heart breaking when he noticed _his_ Ian laying almost lifeless on the couch. He approached his loving stack of bones, giving Kyle and Glitter a sympathetic nod in attempt to thank them for looking out after him.

''Get him some help man.'' Kyle whispered to Mickey as he tapped him on the shoulder. Seconds later, he had left the room with his two other co-workers, leaving both lovers alone in the tiny room.

Mickey sighed as he approached the ugly ass couch, simply happy to see that his boyfriend was sill conscious and alive. Receiving a call from your boyfriends boss hours before the end of his shift was never something really relaxing. He kneeled down so he could be at Ian's height, pressing his hand against his chest and frowning at how weak he looked. He was simply laying there, with only his shorts, body completely exposed. His pale skin was bruised with purple circles, his hair had lost his orange shine and his ribs reminded him of the skeleton that used to be exposed in his science class back in high school.

''M'tired.''

''I know. Let's get you home.''

Mickey knew he could of have never lifted Ian by himself before, but now, his instincts were shouting that it was possible. He wiggled out of his sweatshirt, pushing it over his boyfriends head and frowning as he realised it fitted. Of course, the arms of the shirt were too short, but it actually looked large on Ian's frail figure. He scooted Ian up, holding him like a stack of potatoes over his shoulder. He carried him out of the club, ignoring the looks of judgement that were all pointed towards them. He hurried his way out of the overcrowded area, laying Ian down on the backseat of his brother's wreaked car and wrapping his body with a blanket that he had resting in the trunk.

As he drove down the road, he looked in Iggy's car mirrors a dozen times, simply wanting to make sure Ian was still breathing.

_Hopefully for him, he was._

When they got home, the first thing Mickey did was carrying Ian to his room and laying him down in the twin sized bed. He wrapped him in multiple blankets like a burrito and sat down right by his side. He stroked his cheek with his thumb as he let his tears roll down his own, feeling like their lives were now spiralling out of control.

''I'm so sorry Mickey. For hurting you.'' Ian flickered his eyelids gently, trying his best to look into his boyfriends ocean spheres. Even with his eyes completely shut, he could feel it in his bones whenever Mickey was sad. It was like a sixth sense.

''Ian...'' Mickey shook his head, letting his head fall on the pillow right next to his. ''You aren't hurting me...You're hurting yourself.'' He didn't feel the need to hide his tears anymore, because he had to make Ian understand just how dangerous his recurrent behaviour was.  

''I...I just wanted...To fit in that fucking thong.'' He weakly admitted as his own green spheres filled with water.

''But...Why...?'' Mickey sighed, knowing where this was going and not liking it at all.

''Because...I didn't want to get fired. If I get fired...we won't have any money. Yevgeny won't have food in his tummy and...and you won't love me anymore.'' The redhead shook his head in humiliation, trying to turn away to face the other side but being automatically stopped by strong arms pulling him in the other direction.

Mickey was tucking him into his chest, hand pressed against his back and he pressed his nose into the crook of his neck, breathing in his divine smell. He closed his eyes, breathing lightly into his skin. ''I'll always fucking love you. I've been telling you to quit this job for ages Ian.''

''But no one's going to hire me. Because my stomach's too big and my freckles are too appearing. My chest is hairy and my thighs...My fucking thighs are...''

The older boy cut him off, pulling his face away from his neck only to cup his cheeks between his shaking hands. ''Perfect. Your thighs are perfect just like the rest of your body. Ian Gallagher you're the prettiest boy I've ever seen. How can you not realise that?''

''Because...''

''Because you're sick.'' Mickey cut him off again, shaking his head gently from left to right. ''You're sick and this has nothing to do with the fact that you're bipolar. This is something else. You need help Ian.''

The redhead was staring at him, head screaming at him to deny everything Mickey was saying, but his heart was giving in and he knew there was no more lying to do.

_He was sick. Mickey was right._

''Will you let me help you?'' Mickey's words were soft, like a melody to Ian's ears, but they were also begging for a positive reply.

Ian nodded, but the fear was obvious in his eyes. He had never been more terrified in his life, because this time, getting better also meant returning to the body he once had hated so much.

''It's going to be alright.'' Mickey whispered as he slowly rubbed a tear away from Ian's socked face with the back of his thumb.

_Deep down. Ian believed him._

 

**Author's Note:**

> So that was it, I hope you all enjoyed :)  
> For those who do not know me, I have dealed with very similar things from this story in the past (body image wise) and kind of included some of my feelings in Ian's perspective. I hope it made the fic better and more realistic. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this story, your Comments and Kudos always make my day! 
> 
> Come talk to me about the best OTP in the world on my tumblr - uniquexbehaviour xx


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